Dressing for the Weather

I was comfortable this morning.
Now it’s too hot.
It’s no sweltering summer day,
but it’s just warm enough,
so my clothes feel inappropriate,
and the air feels heavier.

Now it’s too hot,
and the discomfort is making me remember
uncomfortable thoughts.
Like when you told me your poems
didn’t mean anything —
that all it took to turn your love poem
into a poem about heartbreak
was to change a word or two.
So you did.

It’s no sweltering summer day,
but all the same, I’d rather be
on a porch with your book and a martini,
drinking and reading and feeling a breeze,
than stuck inside at this desk.

But it’s just warm enough
at this desk that if I close my eyes,
I can just pretend
that the breeze will be here
any second now.

So my clothes feel inappropriate
but that might not be the weather’s fault.
I often feel underdressed for the future
but overdressed for the present.
I am not the woman I was
when I bought this outfit,
so in that way,
it no longer fits.

And the air feels heavier
this afternoon than it did
when I woke up
all groggy and dreamy
and thinking I could hit the snooze
just one more time
to finish up that scene.

I was comfortable this morning.

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